I feel deeply embarrassed listening to people who think they know everything. We should think more carefully and act with far more humility about things we can never reach a definitive conclusion on.

I encountered this problem constantly in my own family and life. My youth and childhood unfortunately passed under exactly this kind of arrogance — I used to speak with total certainty on subjects I knew nothing about, completely unaware of how pathetic that was. As I grew older and learned to listen instead of talk, I became conscious of this ugly trait in myself. Most of the important acceptances in my life happened gradually through a process. I don’t believe you can make a sudden decision on something truly significant — on the contrary, spreading it across time is essential.

For instance, the process of accepting that I am a trans woman genuinely took years. It was never easy. At times I fell into depression, sometimes I was overwhelmingly euphoric, sometimes I just sat in silence. I spent years swinging between two extremes. Deep down I always knew I was a woman, but accepting it was the hardest decision I ever made. The way I talked without thinking, the colors I was drawn to, my choice of friends, the female characters I always picked in games, the music I listened to, the shows and films I gravitated toward — and especially the women’s clothing I wore. I know it all sounds strange, but I could not live the life you imagined for me. My life was something close to a prison, if that word fits. Before I was 18, I couldn’t even ride a bus alone because my family controlled everything. My social world consisted of three people from school. Every heartache I carry today was shaped during those years.

Perhaps this was my way of avoiding reality — unconsciously, in order to survive, I couldn’t accept the woman inside me. But a moment came when I stood in front of a mirror and was able to say: *”I am a woman.”* I grew up surrounded by extreme bigotry and superstition, and I was myself, for a period, someone who supported deeply misguided ideas — so the peace I felt inside at that moment is impossible to put into words. It turns out the whole thing was simply about being able to be yourself.

And so, this is how I built my sense of self — step by step, and with each step came greater pain. Perhaps the moments that wound you most deeply in this life are the most ordinary ones. I understood this while working at a wedding hall. When I saw the gowns worn by girls my age, I felt a strange ache I couldn’t name. Later I worked at places known as “women’s matinees.” I don’t know why — maybe it’s fate’s strange sense of humor — but I ended up working in many places connected to women. These days I’m trying to keep hope alive. Everything depends on a miracle.

I no longer pretend to know things. Instead I openly say I don’t know, and I can even express that I feel saddened by that not-knowing.

Finally, I just want to write this:

The greatest problem in my life has been dependency on other people. Whatever form it takes, dependency on others is what drives me into depression and causes the psychological damage I carry. If I can manage to build an independent life, my problems will decrease by 99%. I’m certain of this — but building that life is anything but easy, especially when you live in the Middle East, surrounded by countries at war. In life, you must always lower your expectations. Otherwise, you will only hurt yourself.